


Negotiation

by usuallyproperlyhydrated



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Deleted Scene, F/F, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4980406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usuallyproperlyhydrated/pseuds/usuallyproperlyhydrated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We want Clarke,” he says.<br/>“No.”<br/>The word is out of her mouth before her mind can bid it to stay.</p><p>A deleted scene from "Bodyguard of Lies"(2x14) where Lexa receives one offer from Mount Weather that she can't refuse and another one that she shouldn't refuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiation

 Lexa realizes a split second too late that she’s been led into a trap. When the Mountain Men on the ridge had started shooting, she had assumed that if she took a handful of her more experienced warriors, they could easily make short work of them and return to Clarke and the others in no time. In her original survey, she had estimated that there were no more than six or seven shooters.

 This had been correct, but only partially. While there are only six or seven Mountain Men who are actively shooting at the conglomerate _trigedakru_ and _skaikru_ army, there are easily a dozen more who are lying in wait for the detachment.

 Lexa is about to give the command to her warriors to kill as many Mountain Men as they can before dying an honorable death when one of the attackers—who is unmasked, proving that Clarke had been right about the treatments—speaks her name.

 “Commander Lexa, wait,” he says, signaling at his men to hold their fire. “Wait. My name is Emerson—I come with a message from the president.”

 “The time for words is past,” she tells him. “If your president wanted to speak with me, he should have tried long ago. Nothing will stop me from getting my people out of the mountain.”

 “What if I told you that you could do that without losing a single one of your warriors?”

 “I would say that you’re bluffing.” Lexa tightens her grip on her sword, ready to spring back into action the moment the man stops talking.

 “I’m not.” Emerson holds up his hands in what she supposes he must think is a non-threatening gesture. “I’ve been authorized to make a deal with you.”

 “What kind of deal?”

 “You stop attacking Mount Weather and we’ll free your people.”

 Lexa’s eyes dart around, taking in as much as they possibly can of her current situation. The shooters have stopped their assault and are apparently waiting for further instruction. There is no way to guarantee that the Mountain Man is telling the truth.

 But if he is, the implications of his words are enormous.

 For both the Tree People and the Sky People.

 “You’re offering a trade,” she says bluntly. “You want me to trade the Sky People for my own. The Sky People in the mountain will stay and be used and killed, and my people will be set free.”

 Emerson opens his mouth to soften the blow, to make Lexa’s deeds seems less treacherous than they truly are.

 To sugarcoat the truth in that godawful way that both Sky People and Mountain Men love to do.

 But the fact that he is so uncomfortable with her plain words just speaks to the truth of his proposal. It is then that Lexa knows the trade is real.

 “It is done,” she says, sheathing her sword. “Call your president and tell him to release my people.”

 The word come so easily. After what had transpired between her and Clarke earlier that day, she would have thought that the words would have had some sort of bitterness to them.

What she felt…

What she feels…

It rivals what she had felt for Costia. And yet, here she is, turning her back on the alliance they’d forged and by extension, turning her back on Clarke herself.

 But she was taught long ago that feelings have no weight in important political matters.

 “You make decisions with this,” Anya had said, tapping Lexa’s small forehead, then free of war paint. She had tapped Lexa’s gut next. “Sometimes this. Only very rarely. Only if it’s too strong to ignore.” Another tap on Lexa’s chest. “Not with this. Not ever. Do you understand?”

 Lexa had nodded as she absorbed every word of Anya’s lesson, which Anya had repeated countless times over the course of her training.

 It had been Gustus who had repeated it to Lexa over and over as he sat vigil over her on the night after she’d heard about Costia. Lexa had been prepared to take her entire army north to the settlement of the Ice Queen and burn everything to the ground.

 “No, _heda_ ,” Gustus had said in his maddeningly patient voice when she’d tried to fight her way out of the tent and to her horse. “Think about the consequences.”

 “What about the consequences of _her_ actions?” Lexa had seethed. “Who will make her pay for what she’s done?”

 “If you go to war with the Ice Nation, you would lose many warriors and the accord between the tribes will never be reached.”

 “I don’t _care_ about the accord! I loved her! I loved her and they tortured her! Don’t you understand that?”

 “This,” he said, gently laying a hand on top of her head. He used his other hand to cover her heart. “Not this.”

 She hadn’t left the tent for two days, until she was certain that her feelings had been properly schooled. She had, however, broken Gustus’s wrist that night, burning with fury and agony.

 There is no burning now, though.

 Now, Lexa feels cold.

 There is no fire in her veins at the thought of betraying the Sky People—of betraying Clarke.

 Only icy numbness.

 Emerson has been speaking over the radio to his leader in hushed tones. Lexa can tell by the way he’s partially turned away that he doesn’t want her to hear everything he’s saying.

 He turns back to her after a few minutes, putting the radio back down by his side.

 “President Wallace would like me to thank you for being so cooperative,” he says.

 “Save your thanks,” she all but spits. “Are my people being released?”

 “Yes, they’re being escorted to the front door as we speak.”

 “Good.”

 Lexa turns to go, glad to be walking away from this man and this situation, hoping to put as much distance between herself and Mount Weather as possible before a certain Sky Person became aware of the change.

 “One more thing, Commander,” Emerson says.

 She doesn’t deign to reply, only gives him a penetrating stare to let him know that she is listening.

 “We want Clarke,” he says.

 “No.”

 The word is out of her mouth before her mind can bid it to stay.

 She can tell that Emerson is taken aback by her refusal. He had been expecting her to be as quick to agree on this as she had been on giving the other Sky People over.

 But Clarke is more than just another Sky Person.

 “You can have all of the Sky People in the mountain,” she tells him. “Everyone you currently have in your possession is yours as long as my people come walking out that door. But if you try to take any of the Sky People from out here,” she waves her hand to indicate the land surrounding the mountain, “the truce is off.”

 “We aren’t asking for more—what did you call them? Sky People?” Emerson is dismissive. “For all we care, they can starve or freeze. We just want Clarke.”

 It occurs to Lexa that the leader of the Mountain Men wants Clarke not for her marrow, but out of a need to incur revenge for making him look like an imbecile. For outwitting him in every single way.

 Lexa knows that if Clarke is given to them, she will suffer a worse fate than Costia ever did.

 “No,” she repeats.

 “But—”

 Emerson the Mountain Man isn’t given the chance to make his case because before he can try another tactic, Lexa has her sword out and pressed against his neck. The gunmen around him have their weapons trained on her, but all she sees is the steel against his pale skin and it’s all she can do not to follow through with her unspoken threat.

 “I said,” she is speaking in a low snarl, “You can have the Sky People inside the mountain. If anyone so much as looks at Clarke with the intent to hurt her, I will not rest until every single Mountain Man has been slain.”

 She presses the sword slightly harder until she sees little beads of blood appear along the edge of the blade.

 “Is that understood?”

 Emerson gives the slightest nod and Lexa steps back, putting her sword back in its sheath.

 “Good. We will go gather our people and be on our way then.”

 “We’ll come with you. We have to make sure that our door stays secure.”

 On the comparatively short trip down the ridge, Lexa thinks of many things. She thinks of how she’s going to get her weakened people home when there aren’t enough horses to carry them all. She thinks about who she’s going to have blow the horn that will signal their retreat. She thinks about how both Anya and Gustus would have shaken their heads at her when they found out that she had revealed her weakness to the Mountain Men by refusing to give them what they wanted, even though it would have made the most sense to give them the Sky People altogether.

 She tries not to think of how Clarke will look when she hears of the betrayal.

 


End file.
